


Blessed Lives

by jolymusichetta



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Heaven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 07:44:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolymusichetta/pseuds/jolymusichetta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heaven was different for all those who had died.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blessed Lives

Heaven was kind to all those who had died, especially Enjolras, the fierce leader of the Amis, as if to reward him for his valiant effort. There was an endless supply of men, all willing to fight for Patria, no need to scour for furniture, as what he needed was always readily available, but there was no need for it. In heaven, there was no monarchy, no noblemen trying to lord over him. He still rallied people together, filled his free time with speeches, trying to garner attention for certain causes. Every so often, his beauty would cause him to be mistaken for an angel gone astray. 

Heaven supplied Combeferre with endless books, more than he could ever possibly read, even with all the time in the world ahead of him. The books were from long before he or anyone he ever had admired was born. Heaven was constantly changing and every second, there was another book for him to read, something written in that very moment. He could not believe the future that he would miss. 

For Courfeyrac, heaven was full of women, all of whom had no problem being with him and were interested in a tryst, just as he was. Even so, they forgot his name just as quickly as he forgot theirs, but it was all in good humour, so really, there was no damage done. 

Feuilly's heaven wasn't quite the same as the rest of his friends'. It revolved less around the simple pleasures he filled his life with and focused more on the family the orphaned boy had barely known before they were so cruelly taken from him. He finally knew his mother, his father, his older brother and sister, as well as his younger sister, forever frozen at the age they had perished at. They were only sad about reconnecting with the only family member they were missing: He had aged while they had not.

Heaven was simple for Jean Prouvaire. There was a garden, full of gorgeous flowers that would never grow old, never wilt. He could meet the poets whose work had inspired him and he could meet the poets of the future that would be inspired by his work.

There was no sickness in heaven, a blessing that gave Joly more time to devote himself to the study of medicine, which wasn't a skill medicine required of him. But he threw himself into his work all the same, because it was better than having the time to watch Musichetta grieve. 

In heaven, Bossuet no longer had bad luck. He would never fall down over someone's foot or accidentally close his finger in something. On the off chance that something one would consider bad luck happened to him, he would merely laugh it off. Unfortunately for him, though, he was still bald.

Bahorel's heaven consisted of his one true joy in life: fighting. He could fight until his eyes were swollen shut and his knuckles were broken but he always won. There was no hard feelings and whoever he would fight wouldn't be an easy knockout. Heaven provided a challenge for him.

For Eponine, heaven was less of a place where she had endless time to do as she pleased and more time to be who she pleased. She could finally be that dove she had always wanted to be, after all this time. 

Gavroche's heaven was a simple place, a place where he could still be a kid. He was never hungry or lacking a place to live. Simply put, he spent his time enjoying himself. 

For Grantaire, his heaven was full of wine, his drink of choice among all that was available. He drank for pleasure, because he could, not to numb the pain often caused by Enjolras sending sharp, cutting words in his direction.

For Javert, heaven was a place with complicated rules that all contradicted each other but there was no need for the laws when everyone was perfectly obedient towards the country. 

Fantine had regrown her hair, something that had only happened once she was in heaven, although she didn't feel it necessary. Heaven had also cured her sickness, something she was grateful for. But most others loved heaven, love what it provided, but she did not, because her darling Cosette was still on earth.

Heaven for Jean Valjean was peaceful, a rarity he was not used to. He enjoyed it in his old age, though, the quietness that heaven brought. He was never on the run anymore, had no fear. He and Javert had finally shaken hands, something that was long overdue. But he spent most of his time watching over Fantine. Indeed, his life had been blessed. 

In fact, all of their lives had been blessed.


End file.
